Made For A Maid
by Waddles52
Summary: A series of small domestic mishaps add up to big trouble.


Title: Made For A Maid  
  
Author: Waddles52  
  
Summary: A series of little accidents add up to big   
  
trouble.  
  
Rating: PG 13  
  
Category: MT, MSR  
  
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Chris Carter,   
  
1013 Productions and Fox Broadcasting. No copyright   
  
infringement intended.  
  
Archives: Written for the January Fic Challenge at   
  
MR, after that, please ask.  
  
Feedback: I'd love to hear from you.   
  
Waddles52@insightbb.com  
  
Thanks: To Lisa for her services as beta. I   
  
couldn't do it without her.  
  
"Mulder, they should be transferring you to your room   
  
pretty soon." Scully ran her fingers through his   
  
sweaty hair, a very sad look on her face.  
  
"Can't wait." Mulder looked at her through sleepy   
  
eyes, the pain medication and muscle relaxant   
  
beginning to work their magic.  
  
This weekend had started out with such promise and   
  
now he was going to be tied to a hospital bed the   
  
entire time. Life wasn't fair and all because of   
  
some stupid, little domestic accidents.  
  
Earlier that day, 1PM.  
  
Mulder was packing up his briefcase, ready to take a   
  
half-day off. It wasn't his choice, but the powers-  
  
that-be had insisted that he take his accumulated   
  
vacation days. He had talked them in to a compromise   
  
and he was taking them a day at a time or a half-day,   
  
as was the case today.  
  
"Scully, I hate to leave you here with all of this   
  
work."  
  
"Oh, it's not so bad. What are you going to do with   
  
your half-day?"  
  
"I thought I would clean up my apartment a little   
  
bit. The new love in my life prefers her   
  
surroundings clutter-free and sparkling clean," he   
  
grinned.  
  
"A woman after my own heart. I'm sure she'll reward   
  
you exceedingly well." Scully's eyes twinkled as a   
  
huge smile spread across her face. It was all he   
  
could do to stop the groan that threatened to escape   
  
his lips.  
  
"You think so? If you were to guess, when do you   
  
think my love would arrive?"  
  
"This is just a guess, but I'd say she'd come   
  
straight from work bringing dinner with her. At   
  
least, that's what I'd do if I were her."  
  
"Then I'd better get out of here and get busy." He   
  
grabbed his coat and stopped in the doorway. "I   
  
wonder how she'll reward me?" He had a definite   
  
twinkle in his eye that almost made Scully laugh out   
  
loud.  
  
"I'm not sure, but I'd be willing to bet it will be   
  
quite enjoyable." She let her tongue slide across   
  
her bottom lip slowly for effect. His eyes widened   
  
mischievously. She loved to tease him.  
  
"That sounds wonderful. I'll have to fill you in on   
  
the details when I see you again."  
  
Scully looked up from the computer. "I'll be waiting   
  
with bells on."  
  
"Interesting visual. I'll see you later."  
  
"Count on it."  
  
Mulder whistled all the way to his car, going over   
  
his plan of attack. Maybe he should hire a maid.   
  
No, his love would be more appreciative of his hard   
  
work. Humming along with the radio, he made his way   
  
home barely aware of how he got there.  
  
After changing into an old pair of sweats and a   
  
muscle shirt, Mulder decided to tackle the grungiest   
  
room first. That was definitely the kitchen. He   
  
tried to think of the last time he had really cleaned   
  
it and came up blank. Oh well, there was a first   
  
time for everything. He stood in the doorway and   
  
surveyed the damage. "Might as well start at the   
  
top," he decided, pulling out a kitchen chair and   
  
positioning it by the cabinets. "Cobwebs, prepare to   
  
meet your doom."  
  
After attacking the cobwebs with a broom, he grabbed   
  
a rag and climbed onto the chair to dust the tops of   
  
the cabinets, determined to get every last molecule   
  
of annoying dust and dirt. As he worked he felt a   
  
strong sense of accomplishment. It was looking great   
  
and Scully would be proud.  
  
He found that he had to stretch and stand on tiptoe   
  
to reach the far corner. The chair wobbled ominously   
  
and the next thing he knew he was sprawled on the   
  
floor holding his right ankle. "Shit! Why me?"  
  
It hurt so much that he was almost afraid to let go,   
  
expecting to see his ankle fall off in his hands when   
  
he finally got up the courage to take a look. It was   
  
already beginning to swell. Pushing himself up, he   
  
found that he could put some weight on it. Deciding   
  
it wasn't broken, he stoically prepared to finish   
  
what he he'd started. There would be plenty of time   
  
to put ice on it after he was finished cleaning.   
  
With a vow to be more careful, he went back to work.  
  
After an hour of hard work he declared the kitchen   
  
presentable. Even the refrigerator was cleaned and   
  
disinfected and the suspicious odor had been   
  
vanquished under a haze of air freshener.  
  
Overcoming the urge to rest, he made his way to the   
  
bathroom. The shower and tub were definitely in need   
  
of some 'scrubbing bubbles' and son-of-a-bitch, there   
  
were cobwebs in the bathroom too. The F.B.I. agent   
  
groaned and went in search of the broom he had used   
  
earlier.  
  
His ankle protesting mightily, he knocked the cobwebs   
  
down and went to work on the tub. As he knelt to   
  
clean around the bottom, he felt something pop in his   
  
right knee. Instant pain! No time to give into it   
  
though, the bathroom needed to be pristine. He   
  
gulped a few mouthfuls of steadying air and carried   
  
on.  
  
Mulder limped through his chores, his knee and ankle   
  
competing for the honor of which hurt the most. The   
  
only good thing was that the injuries were on the   
  
same side. At least he could still get around if he   
  
was careful.  
  
The next stop was the bedroom. Nothing major there.   
  
He just needed to put his dirty clothes in the   
  
hamper, check under the bed for obnoxious lurking   
  
things and change the sheets. The love-struck agent   
  
made quick work of picking up his dirty clothes and   
  
checking under the bed. Although he was tempted to   
  
lie down and prop his injured leg on a couple of   
  
pillows, he grabbed the cotton percale sheets that   
  
Scully had picked out and began to put on the fitted   
  
sheet. As he stretched to pull it taut, he was   
  
knocked to the floor by a lightning bolt of pain in   
  
his lower back.  
  
"Damnit! What now?" He made an effort to get up and   
  
straighten his spine but was met with another   
  
shockwave of pain. He eventually managed to finish   
  
making the bed with his back parallel to the floor.  
  
That only left the living room. Piece of cake! All   
  
he had to do was put some videos and magazines away   
  
and straighten up his desk. He shuffled into the   
  
bathroom and stopped to grab the lemon furniture   
  
polish and a dust rag from the linen closet.  
  
After clearing off the coffee table, he prepared to   
  
spray a generous amount of polish on the flat   
  
surface. Unfortunately, the spray nozzle was   
  
pointing toward his face. He screamed as the   
  
stinging spray hit his eyes. As he searched blindly   
  
for the dust rag, he lost his balance and crashed   
  
into the coffee table, hitting the edge. The ribs on   
  
his right side screamed in agony. The air was full   
  
of blue words and lemon polish particles.  
  
After wiping the polish from his eyes and bathing   
  
them in water, he managed to complete his task by   
  
limping around and holding his side. Each breath was   
  
agony. He painfully sank onto the couch and looked   
  
at his watch. 6:15! Scully would be there any   
  
minute! He slowly got up from the couch and made his   
  
way to the bedroom, hunched over, limping and holding   
  
his ribs. The apartment looked wonderful and he was   
  
a wreck!  
  
He picked out clean clothes and sat on the side of   
  
the bed, hoping to gather the strength to get his   
  
dirty, streaked clothes off and clean ones on.   
  
That's where Scully found him 15 minutes later.  
  
"Mulder, the apartment looks and smells great! Why   
  
don't you finish changing clothes while I set the   
  
food out? I decided to get something different for a   
  
change so we're having a Mexican feast."  
  
"Um, do you think you could bring the food in here?"   
  
he asked pitifully.  
  
"Well, I could, but I'd rather not get taco sauce on   
  
the nice, clean sheets."  
  
"Scully, I have a confession to make." Her eyebrow   
  
arched as she waited for him to continue. "I had a   
  
few minor accidents and well . . .this is   
  
embarrassing."  
  
"Mulder, what's embarrassing?" She ambled over and   
  
sat beside him on the bed. The slight movement   
  
caused by her weight on the mattress brought forth a   
  
huge groan from her hapless partner.  
  
"What happened? What did you do to yourself?"  
  
"Would you like it in the order of occurrence or an   
  
injury list by location?" He gritted his teeth   
  
against the pain while trying to make light of the   
  
situation.  
  
"Any order you like." Scully's happiness was now   
  
turning to concern. Her eyes grew wide as he recited   
  
the afternoon's unfortunate catalog of events.  
  
"Now, do you see why I'm so embarrassed?" He ducked   
  
his head.  
  
"I can't fathom how you were able to continue working   
  
through all of that pain." She immediately indicated   
  
that she wanted to examine each new injury.  
  
"I wanted everything to look nice for you."  
  
"Mulder, if I wasn't afraid I'd injure you further,   
  
I'd give you a big hug."  
  
"There's nothing more I'd rather do than to take you   
  
in my arms, but at the rate my luck has been going my   
  
elbows would probably lock." He tried to laugh, but   
  
the pain in his back and ribs stopped him.  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Mulder sighed as he reviewed the day's events and his   
  
injury list. His attempt at housekeeping had netted   
  
him an ankle fracture, torn knee cartilage, a severe   
  
back strain and two fractured ribs.  
  
The next time he felt the urge to clean he was   
  
definitely hiring a maid!  
  
In the meantime, his usual bed at the hospital was   
  
calling.  
  
The End 


End file.
